


Ghosts And Card Games

by Voidfish



Series: Bad Brain Good Drabbles [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dissociation, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11660496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voidfish/pseuds/Voidfish
Summary: It’s an accident, a slip up, when Merle starts dealing for Euker. An old habit.At first things are normal. They talk about everything and nothing, a bottle of wine placed between them.“So, what do you say? Next weekend you wanna head to the beach?” Merle says.“Davenport,” slips out of Davenport’s mouth.





	Ghosts And Card Games

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings in this fic for: a panic attack/dissociation attack, referenced ableism. Not gonna lie, I wrote this because I rarely see stuff with Davenport dealing with his recovery or his mental state, and also because I crave those sweet short dad boyfriends.

For a while, things are okay. The Hunger is defeated, Lup’s given a new body, their world is safe, and they have their memories back. For a while, things are even good. With their memories back they are whole, they know their family and their broken home is finally repaired.

Good moments don’t last long, though.

***

Merle isn’t really sure where to go from here.

Because he likes Davenport, he does, and he wants to do something about this feeling. But he’s not sure where to go from there.

There’s three distinct versions of the gnome that combine into one blurry picture. 

There’s the century of their daring captain, a position of authority, a hard-ass who was surprisingly soft when it was midnight and someone couldn’t sleep, who taught Merle card games from his hometown and let Merle make up “dwarven games” for them to play.

Then there’s the last ten years, the painful time where the man couldn’t say more than his name, where he was a joke around the Bureau of Balance, when he had nothing to cling to.

And then there’s the now, the uncanny combination of those two states of living. There are good days when Merle can convince himself that the man that stands before him is and has always been good old Capn’port. And there are bad days where he can’t imagine those a hundred years ever happened. Most days are a combination though, a blend of those states of being. Davenport speaks, but he stutters, anything but his name foreign on his tongue. Or he doesn’t say much, but his eyes make it clear that he is lucid.

Merle wants to help, but he doesn’t know how. He’s a failed cleric-this task was a little too big for him.

***

Davenport was tired of the pity. Everyone was trying, but dammit, the way that everyone around the Bureau looked at him made it clear that they felt sorry for him, they mourned a man that very few of them even knew, they felt so bad, so upset that he had to live like this.

He guesses the wrath never left him, just grew stronger, and now he’s an inferno of it.

***

It’s Merle who makes the first move. He sees Davenport sitting alone at a table and suddenly he’s standing in front of him.

“Hey, buddy, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out, like the old days. Whaddya say?” Merle says. Davenport laughs, and he feels some tension he didn’t even know he was holding release.

“Card games?” Davenport says, raising an eyebrow.

“You know how to do anything else?” Merle says, and they laugh together. Davenport gestures to the chair across from him, and shit, they’re doing this now. What the hell, what else was Merle going to do.

“Here’s the first game we’re gonna play,” Merle says, “it’s called you got a deck of cards? ‘Cause I don’t.”

Davenport laughs. “Right here,” he says as he pulls out a deck, from thin air? Right, illusion magic.

“What are we starting with?” Merle asks, and Davenport thinks.

“Let’s play C-crazy Sixes,” he finally decides, and Merle nods. Davenport deals the cards.

***

Davenport tries his hardest not to indulge in conversation, but talking with Merle has always been so fun and easy, and he can’t resist the normalcy of the situation.

Merle doesn’t make fun of his stutter, doesn’t mention how sometimes the words get mixed up and sometimes the words won’t come. Merle just plays with him, waits until the words come and when they don’t just changes the subject.

And it’s at this moment that it truly comes back to Davenport that this is one of the things he’s missed most. He’s missed Merle.

And that makes his heart start to pound, his face to flush, and his stammer to worsen, which Merle, goddamn that man, doesn’t comment on. He’s a good man, better than he realizes.

“We should make this a regular thing,” Merle says as he glances at his cards. They’re onto Fantasy Poker now. 

Davenport can feel his ears go red. “I-i’d like that, Merle. A l-l-lot.”

Merle smiles. “Settled then.” He throws his cards down. “King me!”

Davenport frowns. “I-i’m pretty sure that’s not how t-this game...this game…” and shit, he can’t think of the word he wants, it’s right in front of him, but he can’t grab it.

Merle’s voice is quiet and calm. “Hey, take your time. We got all night.”

“I’m just f-frustrated,” Davenport says through gritted teeth.

Merle brings his hands up in a placating gesture. “Understandable. You got every right to be. Just take it easy on yourself.”

Davenport shakes his head. “I’m supposed to be b-better than t-this,” he hisses.

“You don’t have to be,” is all Merle says, and they’re back to the game.

***

What starts as a casual game becomes a tradition, until they’re playing together every other night. 

It brings back the normalcy, the two of them playing cards. It starts to be something that Davenport looks forward to every day.

And something is rekindled. Davenport is cautious, scared to admit it, but feelings from long ago are beginning to resurface, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

Merle, bless his soul, defuses moments of tension with dick jokes and dad puns. He’s changed, not as much as Davenport has, but it’s obvious. He has a deeper sorrow-he’s lived too long thinking he was nothing. And Davenport has gone too long being nothing. They make quite a pair.

***

It’s an accident, a slip up, when Merle starts dealing for Euker. An old habit.

At first things are normal. They talk about everything and nothing, a bottle of wine placed between them.

“So, what do you say? Next weekend you wanna head to the beach?” Merle says.

“Davenport,” slips out of Davenport’s mouth.

It only takes a second for things to fall apart.

Merle’s eyes go wide as Davenport slaps a hand over his mouth. “Dav?”

“D-davenport,” is the muffled reply, panicked. “Davenport, Davenport.”

“Shit.” There’s the sound of a chair being scraped away and then Merle is by Davenport’s side. “Breathe, buddy.”

Davenport protest. “Da-Daven, no, Davenport, D-davenport, Daven-,” and now he can’t breathe, he can’t even feel, where was he? Who was he? He was Davenport, that’s all he knew.

“Dav, can I touch you?” He hears from a distance, and he nods, he needs something to bring him back to Earth, and the next thing he feels is strong hairy arms wrapped around him.

And they stay there, for a while, for a lifetime, Davenport mumbling his name through broken sobs and Merle holding him, praying to Pan to give his captain, his friend, his Dav, comfort.

***

When Davenport finally catches his breathe, he still leans against Merle.

“I don’t t-think you should be a p-part of this,” Davenport croaks out, voice hoarse.

“Whaddya mean?” Merle replies.

“M-me. I’m not...I’m not-t-t…” Davenport shuts his eyes and lets the moment pass before he talks again, softer. “I’m not whole. And you shouldn’t hav-ve to deal with th-that.”

Merle huffed. “None of us are okay right now. You got the worst of it. And you’re my buddy, Dav, I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Davenport shook his head. “Why?”

Merle rolled his head. “‘Cause I got feelings for ya, ya big dummy.”

Davenport’s face grew red. “L-like, feelings feelings?”

Oh shit. Merle blushed. “No. Well, I mean yeah, but that’s not what I mean to say-”

Davenport put his hand on the dwarf’s hand. “C-can I kiss you?”

Merle let out breathe he hadn’t realized he was holding in. “I mean, if ya wanna, I wouldn’t complain.”

And then they’re kissing.

***

Davenport laughs from where he’s sprawled against Merle’s chest. “I prob-bably should have w-waited to do that until a-after things calmed down.”

Merle laughs. “Yeah,” he admits. “But we can always try that again tomorrow when you're feeling better.”

Davenport frowns. “A-and if i’m not feeling better?”

Merle shrugs.. “We can still do this again.”

And Davenport can’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is @infernaltwink, come scream with me about Davenchurch!


End file.
